"Always," I reply, already feeling heat beginning to build again. "We have six months to make up for, after all."
As he moves to claim me again, I catch a glimpse of Ryaed's nursery through the connecting door. Our daughter sleeps peacefully, surrounded by the flowers that bloomed in response to our reunion, unconsciously protected by the same magic that brought her parents together.
Soon, if we're fortunate, she might have siblings to play with. The thought of Thorian's seed taking root, of expanding ourfamily after nearly losing that possibility forever, sends fresh heat spiraling through my core.
"Maybe this time we'll make another baby," I gasp as he positions himself at my entrance again.
"God, yes," he growls, his cock already hardening at the thought. "Want to fill your pussy with my cum until you're round with our child again."
"Then fuck me," I beg, pulling him down for a desperate kiss. "Fuck me until I'm pregnant."
Some love stories begin with destiny or prophecy.
Ours began with lies and desperation, but became something real through sacrifice and choice.
And every time my alpha fucks me, every moment we build this life together, proves that the hardest-won love is always the most precious.
The roses outside our window bloom brighter as Thorian claims me again, responding to contentment that needs no divine enhancement to reshape the world.
Because some magic is just love, freely given and gratefully received.
And that's the most powerful force in any universe.
CHAPTER 33
THORIAN
Maya's heatscent has transformed our chambers into something primal.
The afternoon air is thick with the perfume of satisfied omega and claiming alpha, but underneath it all, I can smell her body preparing for more. She's sprawled beneath me like a goddess of sex and fertility, still breathing hard from our first reunion, my seed slowly leaking from her well-used pussy. The sight of my cum dripping from her swollen folds makes something possessive and feral roar in my chest.
But her heat isn't satisfied—if anything, the claiming has only made it burn hotter. I can see it in the flush spreading across her skin, smell it in the fresh slick beginning to coat her thighs, feel it through our bond like electricity crackling between us.
"Ready for round two?" I ask, though her answer is already written in the way she's moving beneath me, the desperate little sounds she's making.
"More than ready," she breathes, her hands already reaching for me with renewed hunger. "We have six months to make up for, after all."
And we do. Six months of careful distance while she recovered, six months of sleeping beside her without being ableto claim her properly. Now that we're finally reunited, my rut demands nothing less than complete satisfaction—for both of us.
I'm still buried inside her when I feel my cock beginning to respond to her renewed heat scent. The sensation is incredible—feeling myself grow hard again while surrounded by her tight, wet heat. My prehensile length stirs within her pussy, the flexible tip beginning to curve and explore as blood flows back into the ridged shaft.
"Oh god," she gasps, her eyes going wide as she feels me swelling inside her. "You're getting hard again already."
"Your heat scent," I growl, my hips beginning to rock against hers as my cock reaches full size without withdrawing. "It drives my rut insane. Makes me want to fuck you until you can't walk."
"Then do it," she challenges, her inner walls clenching around my length. "Fuck me until I forget my own name."
This time, I take her slowly. Long, deep strokes that let me savor every inch of her enhanced anatomy gripping my length, the way her breath catches when my prehensile tip finds new sensitive spots along her inner walls. The ridged texture of my cock drags against every nerve ending she possesses, and I can feel fresh slick coating my shaft with each thrust.
"God, your cock feels so good," she moans, her back arching as I establish a rhythm that has her trembling beneath me. "I missed this so much. Missed being stretched open on your beautiful cock."
"Tell me what you missed," I command, my voice rough with rut and possession. "Tell me exactly how my cock makes you feel."
"I missed how thick you are," she gasps as I thrust deeper, my prehensile tip curving to stroke her cervix. "How you stretch my pussy so wide I can feel you everywhere. Missed how your ridges hit every spot inside me, how your tip moves like it's alive."
Her words send heat racing through my system, but I force myself to maintain the slower pace. This isn't about desperate claiming anymore—this is about relearning each other's bodies, about celebrating what we've built together through sacrifice and choice.
I lean down to capture her lips in a kiss that tastes of heat and promise, my hips never stopping their steady rhythm. Through our bond, I feel her pleasure building gradually, like waves gathering strength before they crash. But there's something else too—a deep contentment, joy at being reunited with the alpha who chose her over everything else.
